Descriptive Writing (Formative)

Time: 35 mins

There is an unexplainable charm to crumbling ruins. When the saffron rays of the sun hit these ancient architectures, the pillars reflect the age-old history they have been holding up for so long. These places radiate a sense of calmness and tranquility, something you wouldn't expect from sites that witnessed war and bloodshed. Maybe it's the smooth marbles the walls are made of that remind me of the serene moonlight in the darkest hours of night. Or maybe it's the sun-baked bricks of the giant stairs which leads you to the horizon, that humbles you.

I walked up the stairs, admiring my surroundings. The wind chased through the halls and the pillars, whistling to wary of their arrival.These winds carried the fragrance of antiquity and the tales of great warriors and wise people that once flourished in these grounds. A cool breeze hit me like a refreshing spring day, restoring my strength which had faded out due to the long journey.

The fast paced walk of my hard soled shoes were received with echoes from the walls. It was as if they had accepted my arrival. I felt honoured. The echoes of the past coupled well with the silence these structures lived in for so many years. I could picture the liveliness these places were adorned with, when people lived and breathed in them. I could feel the traditions and the festivity that lit up these walls.

I walked through the halls of this majestic structure, imagining myself dancing through these corridors, dressed in the shade of blue, the sky was painted today. I grazed the soiled bricks as I moved along, attempting to take in the history, the emotions, the memories that each brick shared for centuries. It made me feel as if I was home.

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